


A Whiny Bard

by dhwty_writes



Series: Winter Prompt Challenge [5]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Frostbite, Hypothermia, M/M, Prompt Challenge, both mentioned - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:49:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27917764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dhwty_writes/pseuds/dhwty_writes
Summary: Jaskier is cold. And very persistent.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Winter Prompt Challenge [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2035792
Comments: 12
Kudos: 136





	A Whiny Bard

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is only loosely connected to Day 6 - Frostbite/Hypothermia. More fluff, yay!  
> Have fun!

"Geralt," Jaskier moaned, a desperate look in his eyes. " _ Please _ ."

"Hm?" he answered, smirking. "You want something, bard?"

"You know I do," he whined. "Come on, Geralt, you cruel, cruel man. You can't just leave me wanting like this."

He chuckled quietly without looking up from the sword he was cleaning. "Yes, I can. Patience, Jaskier, I told you so."

"But Ge _ ralt _ ! You promised!" 

Geralt didn't respond. He had a job to do after all; a rusty sword could decide over life and death in the next fight. Jaskier knew that. He was just being a pest. 

And apparently, he was not done just yet. "Geralt," the poet whined again. "Ger- _ alt _ .  _ Ger _ -alt. Geralt, Geralt, Geralt, Geralt, Geralt." It was a ridiculous behaviour for a grown man. "White Wolf. Mighty witcher. My most beloved friend, my hero, my protector-- honestly, I am just trying to get your attention and I'm running out of things to call you."

Geralt sighed and glanced over his shoulder. Jaskier was sprawled out in the middle of their bed and made grabby hands at him. He rolled his eyes affectionately. "Honestly, bard, you're more trouble than you're worth," he grumbled.

"Hah!" Jaskier exclaimed triumphantly. Apparently, he took it as a victory instead of-- well, ages ago it might've been an insult, but they were past that, really. 

"So, you admit that I have worth on your travels!" Jaskier continued babbling on. "Took you-- what, only a decade? That's progress, my friend! But still, incredibly rude. I don't even know why  _ I  _ put up with  _ you _ \--  _ and _ you're not listening anymore. Again."

'That's not true,' Geralt thought. He was always listening to even the most nonsensical of Jaskier's ramblings. Not that he'd ever let him know; his ego was already inflated beyond what seemed humanly possible. Any more and he'd probably die from it. 

Geralt wasn't quite sure  _ why _ he did it either. 'In case he says something important,' he'd told himself in the beginning, but he knew that was a lie. There was rarely anything of note conveyed in these tangents.

He just-- liked them, he guessed. He liked how excited Jaskier was about everything, he liked hearing his thoughts, he liked-- He liked Jaskier. There. He said it. The thought alone was daunting, but--

"Geralt," the poet interrupted his train of thought with his prattling, "my friend, my pal, my mate, have mercy on me." There was a melodramatic sigh from behind him and the distinct rustling of Jaskier pulling the blankets tighter around himself. "Honestly, I tell you, I'll have died of hypothermia once you're done."

A tiny smile appeared on his face. Geralt thanked all the gods he had his back turned to Jaskier and the poet couldn't see it.

However, it seemed he had run out of luck with that one, for Jaskier continued: "My buddy, my partner,  _ darling _ -" 

Geralt's head snapped up without his volition.

For a moment there was complete and utter silence in their shared room, only interrupted by the rushing of blood in his ears. 

Then, Jaskier huffed with delight. "Finally got your attention, huh? Let's see, I can expand on that... Geralt, my dear, my heart, my  _ love _ . Dearest, why don't you come over here and warm me up? Would you like that, my life?"

"Jaskier," he growled quietly. His face was feeling very hot. And his heartbeat was much faster than normally. He knew that wasn't normal. It felt like being poisoned. Actually, he felt a bit faint.

There was a bit of shuffling behind him and suddenly two arms reached around his shoulders, gently prying the sword from his grasp. "What is it, my soul?" Jaskier purred, his lips dangerously close to the shell of his ear. "Are you feeling quite alright?"

He wasn't. He definitely wasn't. It felt like his limbs had been replaced with jelly, it was horrible. He never wanted it to end. But-- "Stop," he ground out, "teasing me."

"Oh, but I'm not," he promised and moulded himself against Geralt's back. He was almost willing to believe him. "It's freezing, dear heart. Come to bed with me, loved one, why don't you?"

At that moment, Geralt could feel all of his resistance melt away; he knew he'd do anything to hear those words again. Jaskier could have asked him to go run naked around town, he would have done so gladly. So, kicking off his boots and pulling his shirt over his head? That seemed like the easiest thing in the world. "Alright," he heard himself whisper for there was nothing else to do. 

"Great!" Jaskier exclaimed and pulled him backwards with him. The poet flopped down with a satisfied sigh, his hands extended towards Geralt. "Cuddle me!" he demanded.

He wanted to huff, feigning annoyance, but why should he? So, Geralt just lay down beside him and pulled him close. No sooner was he cradled against his chest that Jaskier tangled their legs together and smiled up at him like the cat that had caught the canary. "Happy?" he meant to grumble. Instead, it came out more like a purr.

"Almost," Jaskier replied seriously. "You see, hypothermia is nothing to joke about and I'd really hate to lose my lips to frostbite."

"Hm," he replied. "Couldn't have that."

"We absolutely cannot," the poet agreed. "Any remedies you can recommend, o mighty witcher?"

"Hm..." He was feeling nervous all of the sudden. What a stupid reaction. 'Nothing to do but take the leap of faith,' he told himself. "I could... kiss you."

"Oh, you absolutely should," Jaskier spluttered and pulled him in for a searing kiss. And, well, Geralt wasn't about to argue with  _ that _ arrangement.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! As always, leave a comment and a kudo or come over to chat with me on [tumblr](https://dhwty-writes.tumblr.com/) if you liked it!


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